The Cthulhu Cult: A Novel of Lovecraftian Obsession

by Rick Dakan

  “You actually went to the police with this? Jesus… ”

  “Well, I talked to a cop friend of Lauren’s, you know, off the record. He said I needed more before I could file an official report. We can’t wait around anymore. We can’t keep waiting for them to make the next move. I’m serious here, more serious than I’ve ever been about anything in my life. Kym fucked with my mind and I was only in her presence for less than an hour. Shelby fucks with my dreams from across town so I can hardly sleep without pills. Now, can you imagine what they’re doing to Cara in there, and the others? Do you think they even have any of their own minds left? Listen, Cara is a wonderful person and, you know, she was always great. And to see her like this. Her and the others. If you really care about her, you’ll help me do something. You will.”

  “OK, Conrad, I will. I will.” The stuff about the dreams continuing was news to me, and he did look like he hadn’t slept a full night’s sleep in weeks. And I felt the same way about Cara that he did, probably more so. “I’ve decided I need to get them to let me into the cult. To initiate me. Then I can be a mole on the inside and learn what’s really going on.”

  Conrad’s brow crinkled and he gazed at me for a long, unblinking time. “I don’t think that’s safe for you.”

  “I think it’s the only way. I’ve been talking with Cara. She’s setting me up with an interview with Shelby. Once I’m there I know I can talk him into letting me join up.”

  “Why’s he letting you join now all of a sudden? Won’t he suspect something?”

  “Well, our plan to seem like we’re not getting along is working. They just want me to assure them that you and I are on the outs and promise to do some writing and editing for them. Then they’ll talk to me about joining up.”

  “But in there alone you’ll be unprotected. You know yourself what they can do, how they can hypnotize us.” Conrad stared at me hard, like he was trying to see into my brain. “You’ll be all alone in there.”

  “That’s why I’ve been trying to get a hold of you! So you can be outside as backup. Besides, I’ve got to give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “They could sacrifice you to Cthulhu,” Conrad said. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

  Chapter 18

  What do you wear to an interview with a cult? What do you wear to an interview with a cult when you also need to have a ballpoint pen with a hidden microphone in it? Yes, Conrad had bought a pen with a hidden microphone in it — he’d already used it to record his conversation with Ash. He’d ordered it from the Web site for a spy magazine he’d picked up at Borders, and apparently it actually worked. He insisted that I had to have the bug on at all times so he could listen in and be ready to rescue me if things went wrong. All I had to do was keep it in my front pants pocket and it would transmit the audio to a receiver out in Conrad’s car up to 900 feet away. We tested it that evening in my apartment complex with me inside and Conrad out on the street, and I was impressed. I went online after he left and saw that the pen and receiver together must’ve cost over $1000, plus whatever he paid to have them shipped. I guessed he hadn’t run that purchase by Lauren first.

  I decided to go sort of funky dress casual. I wore black pants and shoes, but with a red T-shirt I’d bought from a trendy online T-shirt store that featured a drawing of a woman with a skull tattoo on her neck wearing a surgical mask. What did it mean? Who knows, but it looked cool and I thought it maybe presented the right kind of attitude. I showered, shaved, trimmed the beard, and drove on over to the Cthulhu compound around 6:00 p.m. Conrad seemed to think most of them were usually home around this time, which was before they went out to do house parties, but after they’d finished their day’s work (whatever that was). Conrad wouldn’t tell me how often he watched the house, but I got the impression it was a lot.

  I parked in front of the gate, my handmade copy of the Cthulhu Manifesto tucked under my arm, and rang the bell. It took a couple minutes, but at last I heard feet on gravel marching up the long driveway on the other side of the gate. A small window opened up in the wooden fence and a young woman’s face peered out at me from within.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, her tone pleasant and welcoming.

  “My name’s Rick Dakan and I’m here to join up. Can you please tell Shelby I’m here?”

  Her eyes lit up with understanding when she heard my name and she nodded. “Oh, Mr. Dakan. Nice to meet you. Yes, please hold on just a minute. I’ll run get someone.”

  “Thanks,” I said. She shut the small window and I could hear her actually running back towards the house. Another couple minutes passed and then more footsteps headed back my way. I heard bolts being thrown and locks being turned and then the heavy wooden gate swung open and there stood Cara, a wide grin on her face. She wore a long, flowing peasant skirt that went down to her ankles and a loose red tank that revealed a couple inches of lovely white flesh above the waist.

  “Cara! It’s great to see you. You look wonderful,” I said, stepping forward with my arms out.

  “Great to see you too Rick,” she said as we hugged. It lasted a few moments longer than maybe just a friendly hug should. Or so I told myself at the time. “I’m so glad you came by. I’m so glad we could finally make this happen.” She looked at my car parked in front of the gate. “Do you want me to have someone park that for you?”

  “I don’t want to be a bother,” I said. Despite the warm welcome, I still had enough sense to not want to leave my car inside the compound and on the other side of that gate. “I’ll just park on the street and be right back.”

  “That’s fine,” she said, easygoing and still smiling.

  With my car safely stowed where I could make a fast getaway (assuming I could get out the gate myself), I walked into the compound, Cara at my side. With twilight settling in, the interior of the compound began to glow all around me as lights came on. A line of young oak trees along the inside of the fence to my left had spotlights that lit them from beneath. The more mature, towering trees along the driveway had smaller lights tucked within their branches, out of sight but casting red and purple and blue beams onto the branches. The big green house loomed in front of us, with more colored and white lights highlighting its features. I noticed that all the lights were external, however, and that the few windows on the front of the house were black panes of glass, either heavily tinted or letting on into dark rooms within. There were no hints of light inside at all. Off to the right I caught a glimpse of the converted garage at the back of the house, the “temple,” as Ash had referred to it on the recording. I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed that Cara was leading me away from it.

  We hadn’t said anything as we walked back. I was waiting for her to ask me some questions, but she seemed content to wait in silence and just lead me wherever we were going. The lack of conversation overcame me — I had so many questions for her, I needed to ask at least a few of them while we were still alone.

  “It’s good to see you,” I said.

  “And it’s good to see you,” she replied, giving my shoulder a light squeeze. “I’ve gotten so kind of, well, swept up in everything that’s been going on here, it’s easy to lose track of the rest of the world. That’s why I’m so glad that you’ve found your way here at last. Now I know we’ll see a lot more of each other. I know it was maybe confusing and hard for you, but we believe it’s much better that you’ve come here the way you have, by reading the manifesto and going through the mind ritual with Kym. You’ll understand so much easier this way.”

  “Understand what?”

  “What’s really going on here. Or as much as any of us can understand what’s going on.”

  “And what is going on here?”

  “What do you think?” she asked, her voice playful in a kind of Socratic way. “What did you think you were going to find when you left your house to come here this evening?”

  We had passed right by the front door to the house and were turning t
he corner and coming into the side yard, passing between two stands of thick bushes lit from within with orange and yellow lights. Cara went first, pushing aside some of the branches to clear the way. We emerged through the foliage into a ten-foot-wide swath of grass. On the right was the house, with more blacked-out windows. To the left was a low, concrete building that looked brand-new. It had no windows at all, just a sturdy metal door halfway down the length of unpainted cinder blocks. Someone had painted about half the wall with a white primer. Cara ignored the building and pressed on towards the back yard.

  “I don’t know what I expected exactly,” I told Cara, which was the truth. “I just know that what Kym showed us at the house party was pretty impressive and that what Shelby wrote in his manifesto makes a lot of sense to me.” Well, the part about Kym was true anyway. “And I do know for certain that whatever you all are doing here is about the most exciting thing going in Sarasota right now.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it is,” Cara said. “I’m absolutely sure.”

  We came around to the back of the house and I recognized the huge oak tree from Conrad’s description of his night having dinner here before things got so incredibly crazy. Dozens of paper lanterns hung from the tree in all different colors, raining down a full spectrum of illumination on the pavilion below. Where Shelby had described a large wooden table, there now stood a square tent about thirty feet to a side. Semi-opaque muslin drapes kept out the bugs and were suffused by the soft, flickering glow coming from within. I could make out the silhouettes of two people moving inside. On the side of the pavilion closest to the rear of the house, was a smaller tent made of thick, black canvas, which connected the flimsy exterior structure to the brooding main house. I imagined that it was likely there was a rear doorway connecting the inside to the out through this smaller tent. As we approached, I could hear soft music coming from beyond the sheer fabric, a lone flute playing a simple melody.

  “What do you think?” asked Cara.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. It was beautiful, and about as far from sinister and cult-like as I could imagine. “Is all this because you were expecting me or is it always like this?”

  “We were expecting you, yes,” Cara said. “And now finally you are here.” She took my hand in hers as we arrived before the muslin curtains. “Welcome to enlightenment.”

  She ushered me inside where I found Shelby and Kym standing there, illuminated by oil lamps hanging in each corner of the tent, with big smiles on their faces. They both wore matching silk robes. Shelby’s was dark purple, Kym’s a jade green. Both were cinched at the waist with thin black cords of rope that wrapped around five or six times. At their feet was a low wooden table that stood less than a foot off the ground and was covered with fruits, cheeses, olives, and other foodstuffs I couldn’t immediately identify, all surrounding an ornate tea set in the center with four cups. Incongruously placed in the far corner near where Shelby stood was the copy of Lovecraft’s The Outsider and Others that I’d purchased for him. The floor was covered in oriental rugs and large pillows, reminding me of something out of Arabian Nights. The flute music was coming from speakers that were hidden somewhere near the corners of the tent, maybe behind a cushion.

  “Rick!” Shelby said, his voice excited, friendly, and utterly familiar. He was just the Shelby I’d always known. “Man, it’s great you finally made it.” He came up and gave me a hug.

  Kym was right beside him, stepping in as soon as Shelby released me. “It’s so good to see you again,” Kym said, kissing me on the cheek. This was not the welcome I’d been expecting. I’d pictured dark rituals and chanting and Lord knows what else. Instead it looked like we were going to have tea.

  “Well,” I said. “It’s good to be here.” I gestured around the tent. “This all looks amazing.”

  “We try to make it all as pleasant as possible,” Shelby said.

  “All what?”

  “Life, of course! Live it while you’ve got it.” Shelby motioned towards one of the pillows that surrounded the low table. “Now please, have a seat.”

  I rather awkwardly maneuvered myself down onto the ground, placing my copy of the Cthulhu Manifesto on the corner of the table opposite the Lovecraft text. Cara sat down on the pillow next to mine, while Kym and Shelby took their places across from us. It all of a sudden felt a little like some sort of strange double date. Not a bad feeling really.

  Shelby was on his knees, sitting back in a manner that my quads weren’t nearly flexible enough to find possible, but which some people seem to find comfortable. This position allowed him easier access to the tea set in the table’s center, and he leaned forward, lifted the lid and took a sniff. “Almost ready,” he said. “Just a few more minutes. We always have a nice relaxing dinner before the night’s activities begin. I just threw on some water for tea when I heard you were at the door. You do want tea, don’t you?”

  “Sure, sounds nice.” In fact I’m not much of a tea drinker, but I wanted to fit in.

  “The taking of this particular tea is one of our little rituals here.” Shelby paused to look me up and down in a way that wasn’t at all creepy, more like a proud parent admiring an overachieving child than a predator cult leader appraising fresh meat. “Cara said you wanted to talk about finally joining us. Is that true?”

  “It is. I’m ready to, I think. Talk about it, I mean. I’d like to know more about what it is I’d actually be joining. But I’ve been impressed with what I’ve seen and read and it sure seems like something I want to be a part of.” I could feel nervous sweat breaking out in the small of my back. Why hadn’t I thought of a more convincing answer to that question? I knew he was going to ask it! That and of course the next question.

  “Our friend Conrad doesn’t agree with you, though, does he? He seems upset by our church.” Shelby’s voice was calm and even, no hint of anger or even disapproval.

  “He and I haven’t really been seeing eye to eye on this whole thing for a while. He’s just a little freaked out is all. Outside of his comfort zone.”

  “I get the impression that he thinks we’re up to no good.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s right. To be honest he hasn’t been making a whole lot of sense. But on the other hand, he’s kind of reflecting the views of a lot of people in this town. You’ve been getting some pretty negative press lately, you know?” I hoped maybe I could steer him away from the topic of Conrad in particular and onto his more general public image.

  “Tongues do wag, no doubt about it,” he said. “I don’t worry about it too much. We’re doing this in part to stir things up a bit, and I’m certainly not worried about what reactionary conservative idiots print in the paper or on some Web site. We’re reaching the people we want to reach and ignoring everyone else. That’s a big part of what we do here, you know.”

  “What’s a big part?” I asked, wondering if Shelby could really make this all seem sensible to me.

  “Teaching people to ignore the bullshit and see existence for what it is.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

  “I don’t think it’s at all bad. But that’s me and you. Others have a much harder time coping with reality. As it turns out, the real facts about the universe and how it works are far from comforting. The powers and forces that shape and define reality care nothing for our individual fates. Care nothing at all in fact. Most people find that quite discouraging.”

  “But not you?”

  “No, not me,” Shelby said, and then smiled, looking me right in the eye. “And not you either, I suspect.”

  “No, not me either,” I agreed. I said it because I was prepared to play along as long as I could to learn more about what was really going on, but even as the words slipped past my teeth I realized that they were true. I didn’t find it discouraging that the universe was indifferent to my fate. “I find it liberating in a way,” I said without thinking.

  Kym and Shelby exchanged a quick glance. “That’s exactly right,” Shelby said. “You ha
ve been reading the manifesto.” He leaned forward to check the tea again. Was that in the Cthulhu Manifesto? I suppose it was, although not in those exact words. So did I really believe it was liberating or was that just some crafty meme that Shelby’s writings had implanted in my subconscious? A chilling thought. “Ahh,” said Shelby, smelling the brew. I could smell it now too, a kind of raspberry scent with an underlying odor of earthiness. “It’s ready.”

  He started pouring into the four china cups arrayed around the teapot. “Rick, it’s important that you agree to fully participate in this conversation we’re about to have. I won’t call it an indoctrination, although others might. And it’s not quite a ritual, at least not in the way we normally perform rituals around here. But it is special and I need you to acknowledge that fact. Acknowledge it and agree to keep the secrets I tell you secret. By drinking this tea and engaging the three of us here in a kind of ritual social intercourse, you’re making a promise and a commitment. Is that clear?”

  I looked at him and wondered what the hell he was saying exactly. It was a tangle of words that basically amounted to asking me to keep whatever they said secret. I decided that, since Conrad was listening in over the hidden microphone anyway, I could weasel my way through and truthfully swear I wouldn’t tell anyone anything. I wouldn’t have to. “I understand,” I said. “I won’t say anything.”

  “I hope you’ll say quite a bit,” Shelby said. “I hope you’ll ask questions and tell me what you think and really engage us all. I just want you to realize it’s a private experience, not for public disclosure.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good,” Shelby said, handing cups over to me and Cara. “Then let’s all have a drink, shall we?”

  We raised our cups, clinked them together, and sipped at the tea. It was strong but tasty, sweet like berries. I took one sip, but the others kept drinking, emptying their cups, so I emulated them and quickly swallowed down the rest of mine as well. Fortunately it wasn’t scalding hot. Shelby refilled the cups and we drank them down again. Then a third time. There was something almost businesslike about it — not the leisurely conversation over tea I’d been expecting since I walked in. When the teapot was empty, Kym and Shelby finally relaxed, leaning back into their pillows and feeding each other dates. I turned to Cara, who looked quite beautiful in the lamplight among the cushions and rugs, and plucked a grape. She let me put it right in her mouth, her lips lingering for a fraction on the tips of my finger and thumb.